


take a moment

by komet



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Lando Calrissian, Millennium Falcon - Freeform, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Protective Finn (Star Wars), Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:49:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22040599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komet/pseuds/komet
Summary: It’s not much longer before Poe speaks, still quiet.- “I thought you were gone.”Finn’s chest twists painfully and he closes his eyes for a moment, sighing out through his nose.-"I’m right here, okay? I’m always gonna be here.”(alternatively: poe has a nightmare, and finn is there to remind him that they all have demons.)
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 17
Kudos: 364





	take a moment

It isn’t always as easy as Poe would like to make it seem. 

In front of the others, he has to be strong, worthy of commanding their respect. He has to be General Poe Dameron. That means choking down his emotion when he can, trying harder than ever to push it all down and be a leader. He has to make them proud, has to live up to Leia’s legacy, and it takes a toll on him. It isn’t that he’s ashamed of his emotions, because Poe’s well aware that he’s filled to the brim with all manner of them -- he just knows that he can’t be _that_ person anymore. He cannot be the irrational one, the trigger happy pilot who jumps head first and gets people hurt, killed. He can’t be that person anymore, so he isn’t. 

He wishes it were that simple.

He has his moments. He has far more than he would like, really, and that thought plagues him more often than not. Poe tries, really tries, but he just can’t seem to be _okay_. He can force himself in front of his soldiers, his friends, but when he’s alone, it’s far too heavy a burden to bear, but at least he can bear it in private. He can crack and crumble in the quiet hours of the night and wake up smiling, confident, ready to go, and nobody has to know the difference. That part is simple.

Or at least it would be, if not for Finn. Finn complicates these things, because he just...cares so much. That’s strange to Poe, frankly. He’s always had a lot of friends, people who would have his back, but that isn’t to say these are people he lets _in_ , people who stay by his side and make sure he is alright. That doesn’t just happen to Poe; he didn’t used to have anybody like that. But then there was Finn, and now there’s Finn, kind and observant and beautiful in every way. There’s Finn, who loves him, and Poe still hasn’t gotten all the way used to that. And it _does_ take some adjusting, some trial and error to navigate this. Finn is everything to him, and he wants to let him in, but he also wants to be strong. 

He doesn’t want Finn to see him in his dark moments, but inevitably, he does. He always manages to find his way to every part of Poe. 

* * *

The Falcon is not exactly meant for living in. This is mostly evident by one fact in particular: there is one bedroom, and one bed. At first, that had proved tricky for Finn and Poe, running mission after mission together and having eventually ran into the sleeping predicament. That had been terribly awkward, frankly, and Poe can laugh about it now but neither of them had found it funny at the moment: they’d bickered for a few minutes with Poe insisting that he was the _pilot_ and his back hurt, and Finn countering that _somebody’s_ reckless flying had knocked him into a wall earlier and his shoulders hurt, until eventually they manned up and shared the damn bed. What followed was no shortage of stiff shuffling and huffs to _stay on your side_. That was the first time, though, and fortunately, they improved. It became less and less of an issue to fall asleep next to each other until it was just natural, and neither of them questioned the other if they woke up closer than they’d gone to sleep. Now, after all of the trials and revelations of their relationship, there’s no problem at all. 

They don’t have to sleep on the ship often. They’re more likely to find some kind of inn, or more ideally, to get back to Naboo and rest in their own quarters (but nowadays, they often end up in the same bed anyway so Falcon or no Falcon, it doesn’t really matter). There is still the odd occasion, though, when they’re off-planet and just decide to bunk in the ship. Like now, for instance, when they’ve just landed in some middle-of-nowhere solar system, their body clocks are all _kinds_ of screwed up, and they can’t be damned to get out and seek out a place to stay. 

Finn glances over as he hears Poe huff out a groan, watching as the pilot quite literally falls into the bed and sprawls out, stretching his undoubtedly aching limbs. “What time is it on this planet anyway?” he asks noncommittally, scrubbing his hands over his face. 

Finn is shuffling about the room, the rustle of fabric as he changes clothes one of the only noises present in the otherwise peaceful ship. “Don’t care,” Finn huffs, “it’s dark, it’s time to sleep,” he says wryly, eliciting a vaguely amused puff of air from his co-general. “Move over,” he hums, nudging Poe’s side and prompting him to roll over and make space. Poe’s eyes are already closed when the lights turn off and the mattress dips as Finn lays down, and now they’re shuffling and rearranging limbs as needed to slot together comfortably. Finn ends up on his side, head resting against Poe’s shoulder and one arm draped over the pilot. It’s warm and it’s comfortable, and perhaps most importantly, it’s _familiar_. 

They relax, both of them, bleeding out the tension of a day spent flying and navigating and yes, bickering. He told Poe once that he’s the type of person who can fight with _anyone_ , and Poe had rolled his eyes then but really, both of them know it wasn’t an insult. Honestly, there are a lot of things about Poe that _bug_ him, but somehow, he ends up loving him more for every one, so there’s not much of a difference anyway. He feels Poe shuffle against him and right about now is when they’d usually talk for a while, but tonight, the exhaustion is all too real and words seem like too great an effort. That’s alright, though, because they’re fine like this too. This is secure and it feels natural, an easy routine like breathing at this point. 

Within minutes, he feels Poe lose the remainder of his tension and his breath comes out soft, so Finn knows he’s fallen asleep. He sighs, closes his eyes, and tries to do the same.

* * *

It’s dark. The only thing Poe knows is that it’s very dark. This is a very strange feeling; he can’t quite move, or if he can, he can’t tell. He can’t see, either, and there’s not much to listen to until there is. The noise comes violently, abrupt in a way that makes his heart jump and every muscle tense. It’s a familiar sound, though: ships flying, lasers firing and pilots shouting over comms. There is the crash and shriek of metal against metal, the jolting and cursing of the pilot in the cockpit, the blaring warnings of alarms in the ship. Yes, this is familiar. 

There is a loud bang, and Poe feels himself jostle, disoriented as his neck aches like it had moved too quickly -- the way it does when he is flying and something hits him. He realizes now that he must be in a ship, and he feels suddenly very attached to all the sounds; it’s deafening, and the roar of the engine takes up all available space in his head. The trouble is that he still can’t see and he doesn’t think that he can move or speak, but somehow, he must be flying and he hears himself talking and feels himself moving but he isn’t doing any of that. It starts to scare him, now, because whatever mission this is, it isn’t going well and he can’t seem to do anything about it. 

An acute pain blooms in Poe’s chest and he doesn’t know if he was breathing before, but he certainly isn’t now. Dirt fills his lungs and the noise is horrific, racketing around in his head with every scrape of metal, every explosion that shakes him to the bone and renders him more and more powerless. He hears himself shouting for somebody to watch their six, and then there is another explosion and his hearts hammers because somebody’s just died, his friend’s just died, but here he is swamped in blackness and he can’t breathe because he’s cramped in this cockpit but he can’t move and they’re all going to die because _he_ led them here and _where is Finn?_

Suddenly, strangely, he can move and it registers that he is awake, but fuck, it’s still dark and he still can’t breathe and Finn isn’t here. Poe realizes with a tremor and a jolt that Finn is gone and that means he’s _dead_ , that he must’ve died with the rest of them because Poe led them into a battle they could not win. Something clamps down on his chest and he can physically feel the weight, and god, it hurts, it hurts, and he’s cold and sweating and he doesn’t know what’s happening, only that Finn’s _gone_ and it’s his fault. His face feels wet all of a sudden and he realizes he must be crying, but there’s this roar in his head like static so he can’t hear it, can’t hear himself, and he can make out some sort of ceiling now but his vision is blotching out horribly. He’s drowning or he’s having a heart attack or somebody’s smothering him, and he’s going to die, he’s going to _die_ alone right here and he deserves it. 

He failed them, and now he’s going to die.

* * *

Finn sighs serenely as he runs his hands along the sides of the Falcon, feeling the hum and buzz of the electricity still running through the dormant ship. It’s soothing, even when it’s late and he’s all but pacing the corridors. He’d tried to fall asleep for a while, and he almost did; it’s always nice laying with Poe, who usually ends up knocking out first. That means Finn gets to hear the way his breathing evens out and the soft huffs he lets out from time to time, gets to see the way that handsome face finally relaxes, long lashes swooping and tension disappearing. He can brush his fingers over those dark curls and feel his own heart skip a beat at the way Poe will always lean into his hand just a little. Yeah, that’s always good.

Finn might’ve been content to lay there like that all night, just watching and smiling and touching, but after the first ten minutes he realized it was a little creepy, so he carefully got out of bed and slipped away. Poe had been deeply, peacefully asleep when he left, so he figured he could wander around until he was tired and then return unnoticed. He’s doing just that now, meandering into the front of the ship toward the cockpit. Ships and flying, that’s always been Poe’s thing. Finn knows he loves the thrill of it, loves to hop from planet to planet, and he’s listened to Poe go on extensively about the intricacies of flying different ships -- the whole deal. Finn, in his own appreciation for ships, connects to the Falcon in a different sort of way; when he sinks into the pilot’s seat, closes his eyes and takes a breath, he can feel it.

There have been pilots before them, of course, and Finn feels the imprint they left on the Falcon. He feels Lando commanding this ship, and there’s a droid; Finn’s not sure who, but they were a co-pilot. He feels Han Solo bickering with Chewie, pulling stunt after stunt to escape peril after peril. There’s Leia here, Luke here, memories here. Legends have passed through this ship, have saved galaxies in this ship, and Finn feels the life force of it thrumming in his veins. It’s unbelievable, really, knowing that the Falcon is in their hands now -- and that’s thanks to Lando’s good grace. They’d tried to return his ship to him because obviously, he deserved it. The General had only smiled, though, looking a little sad and more than a little proud when he shook his head and told them to _take care of her_. There is a very large legacy looming in the name of the Millenium Falcon, but Finn isn’t afraid of it. He wants to live up to it, him and Poe and Rey. 

He’s starting to get tired, now, looking out into the wide expanse of _nothing_ through the windshield. The occasional bout of wind kicks some dust up and he knows Poe will grouch about the windows being dirty tomorrow, but Finn likes the gentle sounds of it. He’s just beginning to drift off, actually, when he hears it. There’s this shout, sudden and thinning out in the end like it just lost momentum. Finn’s brow furrows and he lifts his head, ears straining because he’s not sure if he imagined it or if maybe Poe’s done that thing again where he rolls halfway out of the bed. There’s silence for a few seconds, and Finn almost relaxes, but then it starts again. This time it’s obviously a cry and it sounds pained, and Finn is up instantly, sprinting through the halls.

“Poe?” he calls as he takes off toward the captain’s quarters, heart beating in his throat as he runs every scenario through his head. Is Poe hurt? Is someone in here, somehow? Fuck, _fuck_. It’s louder as Finn gets closer and it’s obviously Poe and he’s obviously in pain, prompting Finn to all but bowl into the room with his hand on his blaster. It’s still dark, but he looks around the room frantically; there’s nobody here and nothing’s out of place. He feels frozen as his eyes flick to Poe on the bed where he’d left him, and there’s nothing wrong but he’s--he’s hurting. Finn realizes this with a jolt and rushes to his side, reaching out for him.

“Hey, hey, Poe?” he prompts, looking him over in shock. Poe’s sweaty and shaking horribly, clutching at his chest as he heaves ragged breaths that mingle with thin sobs that force their way out. He doesn’t seem to actually realize Finn’s here but he mumbles indistinct words that occasionally sound like his name, and Finn is terrified, frankly. “Poe, hey, please listen to me, okay? I’m--I’m here, it’s Finn, you’re okay.” He fumbles, trying to get a steady grip on the other man but he keeps throwing him off in a panic. 

“No, Finn’s _dead_ , he’s d--” he chokes out, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tries to shove Finn away from him. Finn’s heart squeezes and he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what else he _can_ do so he just leans forward and wraps his arms around Poe, holding him tight and bringing a hand to the back of his head, murmuring to him to _relax, please, you’re okay_. Poe is trembling like he’s just been pulled out of a snowstorm, sobbing and rambling senselessly about how they’re dead, how Finn’s dead, how he feels like he’s dying now. It’s heartbreaking in every sense of the word, but Finn just holds him because there’s nothing else to do. 

He has no idea how long it takes before the shaking stops, but it must be ten or fifteen minutes at least. It’s a gradual thing; first, Poe quiets down and the crying subsides until he’s just breathing hard against Finn’s chest. He’s absolutely rigid, tense and trembling, but eventually, that goes away too. In fact, Finn feels it when it melts away and Poe slumps against him, pushing out a sigh that sounds too tired to come from Poe; his Poe who is larger than life and so live-wired, never this resigned.

“Finn,” he mutters eventually, low and rough and so, so exhausted.

“I’m here,” he says softly, shifting his hand through Poe’s hair and dipping to kiss the top of his head. He feels Poe nod, a small movement that makes his hair brush against Finn’s jaw. They stay like that for a while, and Finn’s mind is racing but he keeps all thoughts and questions to himself as he cards his fingers through Poe’s dark hair, the other arm fastened securely around him as he reorients. Finn doesn’t fall asleep in case he wants to talk, but it’s quiet enough for long enough that he almost thinks Poe’s fallen asleep. Almost. His breathing isn’t quite the same, though, and he sniffs from time to time, so Finn just waits. 

It’s not much longer before Poe says, still quiet, “I thought you were gone.”

Finn’s chest twists painfully and he closes his eyes for a moment, sighing out through his nose. He’s about to respond, but Poe goes on.

“I thought they...they were all gone,” he continues, and Finn can tell he’s physically forcing himself to stay steady. “I’ve--I’ve done it before, Finn,” he says, voice dropping, “when we _can’t win_ but I lead them in anyway and it could’ve been _you--_ ” he chokes, then, words dying as he huffs out a sharp breath and goes tense again. Finn reacts quickly, leaning back so they can actually see each other.

“Hey, come on,” he urges, bringing his hands up to Poe’s face, tilting it up toward him. It makes Poe open his eyes, half-lidded and wet with tears but still as pretty as ever. “Don’t do that, please. I’m right here, okay? I’m always gonna be here.” 

“I fucked up, Finn--” he starts, shaking his head as his face twists in grief and anger.

“We all have,” he interjects, holding Poe steady. “We’ve all got plenty of stuff that keeps us up at night,” he tells him in a gentle voice-- _gentle_ , not delicate, because he knows Poe hates people talking to him like he’s fragile--and it’s what Poe needs to hear. He has this tendency of thinking himself weak for struggling. “You’re going through the motions like anyone. You’re gonna be alright.”

Poe sighs now, looking at Finn with tired brown eyes that reflect a sea of troubled thoughts. He seems like he’s deliberating, and Finn knows better to interrupt so again he waits, brushing his thumbs over the high cheekbones that he admires so much. He gets his answer soon enough, when Poe leans forward and kisses him soundly, lips warm and soft and yielding to unspoken truths. Finn answers because of course he does, because he wants to feel Poe warm and breathing and _okay_ against him, because this right here is easy and familiar but it’s never stopped being perfect. Because Poe’s perfect, with all his faults and scars and shortcomings, and Finn wants him to know that. 

“I’m sorry,” Poe whispers when they’ve parted, foreheads leaned together and eyes shut as they breathe each other in. 

“Don’t,” Finn replies softly, one hand dropping to seek out Poe’s. “Let’s go to sleep.”

* * *

For the second time that night, they find themselves intertwined, only this time it’s Poe on his side and Finn’s chest solid against his back, arms pulled firmly around him. It’s overtly protective and another night, Poe might have had something snarky to say about that, but this isn’t another night. Right now, this works for him and his heartbeat has settled properly back into his chest and he feels okay. This whole... _thing_ , it had been nothing short of awful and he can’t remember the last time he was so scared, but Finn’s here and that’s enough. That’s always been enough.

He falls asleep heavily, but this time, it’s with Finn right here with him, his heartbeat at Poe’s back and breath soft against his neck, arms around him and body warm and solid and _familiar_. This time, Poe doesn’t have any trouble staying asleep.


End file.
